Chapter 5
Dante
Film and entertainment is a two-trillion dollar industry. Those were hard numbers to wrap your mind around. To put that in perspective, if Film were a country it would be worth more than all of the Untied Kingdom combined, ranking it as seventh in the world of economic superpowers.
And beating out Disney for market share, Lionhouse Studio was at the top of the very short list of companies that ran the entire industry. The Lionhouse CEO, chairman and senior executive vice president—three of the wealthiest and most powerful people in the world—sat opposite me right now.
These people shaped an entire generation through media.
I never had much patience with this end of filming, and most of the time I was able to avoid it like the plague. Sometimes that wasn’t possible, like today for instance. When these three called, you answered.
I was a stuntman through and through. It was in my blood. Give me a script and a writer’s pipedream, and I’d turn that into a reality. I trained the actors and choreographed the impossible. You want a knife fight in zero gravity? Monsters tearing through New York? Aliens? Sentient cars kicking the shit out of each other? No problem.
I was the best there was and that’s why I was here.
“So you see, therein lies our problem,” continued Jonathan, the youngest of the three executives and current CEO. Unlike the other two, Jonathan was in his early forties. Of the group, he did most of the talking both privately here in his office and to the general public. He planted both smooth, manicured hands on the oak desk that separated us and leaned forward, trying to strike a warmer, more human presence. Glancing back at the older man and woman that flanked him, he finished, “We need your help.”
I leaned back into my plush chair opposite the three of them, crossing my leg. My fingers drummed absently against the fine Italian leather of the armrest as I considered exactly what they were asking of me. The time I spent in the Bahamas filming the nature documentary; Swimming with Sharks, immediately came to mind.
The CEO’s office was extravagant in a vintage Hollywood way, oozing gold, dark wood furnishings, inlaid glass designs, diamond-set fixtures and intricately carved marble floors and walls. It was restored from their opulent grand opening in the roaring twenties, and was the showpiece of the entire studio. I’d met them here separately on various occasions, but never all together like this.
“No,” I said evenly.
“Dante—” Jonathan started.
“I told you Ashley needed more time. She was nowhere near ready when you tapped her to perform. And we all know what happened then.” What they did to that poor girl was unforgivable. I fought to keep the edge from my tone; they were still technically my employers. Even if they weren’t, they controlled such a large part of the industry that I’d have trouble finding work with the other studios if they blacklisted me.
Typically, a stuntman worked freelance under the Screen Actor’s Guild union hopping between production companies on a job by job basis, but I had a very sensitive agreement with Lionhouse.
One I was beginning to regret more and more with each passing day.
“And now you want me to do the same thing with another girl who has even less training, and in about half the time?” I continued, bile rising, scorching the words that left my throat. “With all due respect, are you out of your fucking minds?”
“What happened to Ashley was a regrettable tragedy.” Jonathan frowned, more at my interruption than the fate of his actress. Meetings like this had their own footwork. It was a type of cruel tango where both partners fought to lead.
Skill and reputation would only take me so far with them; I’d have to watch my tone going forward. People often forget that Hollywood was built on the backs of ruthlessness, exploitation and corruption. Being on the bad side of Lionhouse Studio was a dangerous place to be.
We filmed the documentary in a brightly colored coral reef. It was all about understanding the nature of apex predators; and to truly do that I needed to be a part of their world. That meant no cage. Nothing separated me from them. Silent killing machines lurked all around me, occasionally darting in and out of the jagged, inky black holes in the coral reef.
Inevitably one would always bite.
Jane, the senior executive vice president, licked her lips. Her elegantly simple, collared, silk shirt creased at the elbows as she slightly leaned forward. She wasn’t at all concerned with appearing warm or human. Jonathan was about to speak, but seeing Jane move quieted him immediately. Jane removed her expensive glasses, neatly folded them and set them aside so that she could meet my eyes directly. In massive corporations like this, it wasn’t always the CEO you had to worry about.
“Unfortunately, due to the accelerated film schedule the show must go on.” Cold and sharp, Jane was the quiet knife in the room.
They were worried about the franchise film rights. And they should be. If you’ve ever seen a crappy remake and wondered why they bothered making it in the first place, it’s because they had to. If they don’t do anything with the property over a certain amount of years, the rights to that property automatically revert back to the original owner.
A studio could potentially lose billions of dollars in sequels, toys, and spin-offs that way.
“We feel confident that this next round of auditions will get us the right actor for the role,” Jonathan said after a subtle glance toward Jane.
Funny. In the few years I’d been here, I’d seen two CEOs come and go, but Jane, she’d never once looked worried about her position. Despite the titles, I knew who the real power-in-charge was here.
Even in this tense setting, thinking about actresses set my mind back to Autumn. I immediately recalled the sight of her lying naked before me on that work bench. It stirred my cock enough that I had to shift in my seat and cross my leg. The way we left things… I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been more sexually frustrated. Because of that, I’d brought the memory of that girl to bed with me every night since. Her crooked smile, nervous quivering, and the ecstasy in her upturned eyes when she came…
I gritted my teeth swallowing away the salty, lilac taste of her skin. It turned to ash in my mouth when I thought about what happened to Ashley. I was glad that she was probably scared straight out of this world, even if that meant I’d never see her again.
“The future of this franchise depends on it, in fact.” Jonathan’s thick caterpillar eyebrows raised in an almost believable concerned gesture.
“It also doesn’t hurt that you probably put a clause in the new contracts that forbids actors from suing you over malfunctioning equipment in any previous project.” I smiled without the hint of warmth on my lips. We all knew they didn’t give a shit about the talent unless they were big enough names to throw some serious shade if the studio fucked up. Lionhouse only cared about their bottom line and mitigating damaging liability.
“All legal precautions aside.” Jonathan dismissively waived a hand, then leaned in further with a slightly hushed tone. “We know you’re the best at this, but please understand, the new girl will be trained, Dante, if not by you, then by someone else.”
The implications were clear. Can you handle another actress on your conscience?
“I understand the predicament you’re in, but what you’re asking just isn’t possible. No one will agree to take this job.” I exhaled everything away, but the darkness growing behind my eyes. I hated the thought of another actress going through the meat grinder of physical and mental training just because Lionhouse waited too long to get their shit together. “So good luck with that.”
A shark bite was rarely lethal. If anything it was their way of figuring out what I was. I was a strange four-limbed creature that was in their home. A “hit and run” was their way of seeing if I belonged there.
“Your unique skill set and background has provided us with an invaluable perspective these last few years…” The dashes of silver in Jane’s razor straight, asymmetrical hair betrayed more than just her age. She folded her fingers together in a gesture that conveyed a sense of confident surety that could only come from dashing the dreams of a thousand earnestly, hopeful young men and woman who sat in this chair before me. “And in exchange we’ve always respected your privacy.”
My limbs tightened up, and the muscles in my jaw tensed. I hid the apprehension well, but how long before it was written across my face? I suddenly realized the real reason I was here and didn’t like where this was headed.
One day on a routine dive someone accidentally dumped a barrel full of small white bait fish practically on my head. Dozens and dozens of sharks flooded from their dark holes. One brushed by me and sliced open my wetsuit. A red cloud filled the water all around me and I knew I was in trouble.
When there was blood in the water, there was no telling what a school of hungry sharks might do.
“You’ve become quite the celebrity lately, Dante.” Jane continued, referring to the viral video of me saving Autumn on set. There was no hint of jubilance in Jane’s voice, only the cool, edge of threat. “That must difficult for someone as secretive as you, especially given your noteworthy history.”
“You don’t know a damn thing about my past.” The words rumbled out of me like an earthquake, matching the queasy bubbling I felt in my gut. It was an old kind of hate, one I hoped was long dead and buried.
People are right when they say feeding frenzies cause the water to boil. It might have nothing to do with the temperature, but it was all about heat.
“Oh, of course we do.” Jane wore a wounded expression as if a student had accused her of not being prepared for her own class. “We know all about Mitch and that poor security guard.”
I winced at hearing Mitch’s name, fighting the urge to glance around and see if he was lurking in a corner somewhere. If I had a boogie man it was him. Would I ever be free of that motherfucker?
“You’re a bad, bad man, Mr. Marks.” Jane pulled a thick manila folder from under the desk, removed the elastic band that held the bulging stack of documents in place and tossed it on the table. I didn’t have to look to know what it was. Pictures, records and files from the hard, old days spilled out across the polished oak. “We know what really happened to your father. We also know that Frost and Keats are your brothers, despite your efforts to publically distance yourself from them.”
I didn’t give a shit about Keats, he’d made his own bed. There was no saving that lunatic. But Frost on the other hand… I had hoped he wouldn’t get dragged into all this.
What the hell did she mean when she said she knew what really happened to my father? His crash couldn’t have been more public. The man died on live television.
“We’re a multibillion dollar company, Dante. Did you think we wouldn’t research who we got in bed with?” Jane sounded tired although I knew that was just an act. “It’s quite the chore to keep this information from the police.”
And just like that, life—at least as I knew it— was over.
It was a shame. I enjoyed the idea of coming home and making amends, maybe building a few bridges for a change instead of always being the one to tear them down. I guess some part of me always knew this day would come eventually. In one form or another I’d been running my whole life. I should’ve known this time was no different.
Jeffery’s white gold cufflinks chimed off the hardwood as he set his hands together on the desk and raised a wild bushy eyebrow at Jane. He scanned the documents with a wary eye, but otherwise remained silent. Jeffery was the studio chairman. He was ancient, short, fat and had hair in all the wrong places. His perpetually dour, taciturn face, stuffed cheeks and excessive wrinkles made him resemble more of a Shar Pei in a suit than a real person.
He was part of the old guard, when Hollywood was constantly dealing with human rights violations. He’d been around forever, but rarely ever spoke at meetings. At one time in his life Jeffery was a legitimate gangster, back when that was something to be feared. He and I probably had more in common than everyone else in the room, but despite that, we’d never exchanged more than two words.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way.” Jane looked down at her hands for a moment giving her words room to breathe, eventually glancing back up; her light blue eyes were as tranquil as a quiet pond. “We own you.”
Alone and bleeding in the coral reef, surrounded by hundreds of hungry sharks, I did the only thing I could to survive.
That queasy feeling in my stomach became a cold knife slowly twisting like a key, unlocking the door to something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. “On two conditions.”
Jane raised a curious eyebrow, but otherwise stayed utterly motionless. She wasn’t about to agree to anything while she held all the cards, but she was curious enough to hear me out.
“After you’ve picked your next victim, I’ll make her film ready. When that job is done you delete everything you have on me—Back ups, copies everything.”
“Now wait a minute—” Jonathan rose as he started flexing his authority, but Jane’s hand on his side stopped him. He glanced at her, irritation flashed across his face at being stifled. He wisely caught himself and let the impotent anger disappear, then sat back down.
I thought about pressing that animosity, but dropped it. There was no way for me to use it to my advantage, at least not now.
“And the second thing?” She asked, mildly entertained.
“You release me from my contract, and we never see one another again.” I gestured to everyone in the room, including myself. “All this shit ends.”
“And let’s say we’re not feeling magnanimous? What do we get out of letting you go exactly?” The entertainment on Jane’s face bloomed, creasing her lips in a stern, humorless smile.
“You know everything I’ve done, right?” I didn’t bother waiting for acknowledgement. I paused only long enough to meet the eyes of each of them before cracking my knuckles and continuing. “Then you know what I’m capable of. If I don’t walk by the time I make that girl film ready, then I stop playing by all the rules. You really want the ‘old me’ on your payroll?”
Jane’s mocking smile blanched. If I didn’t frighten her, then I at least made her a little nervous. If I wasn’t under control I was a public relations shit storm just waiting to happen and they knew it. With what they had on me they could take me down easily, but not before I did some serious damage. It was in everyone’s best interest that I went away quietly.
After a deep breath and some quiet consideration, she finally turned to Jonathan and nodded.
“Looks like we have ourselves a deal, Mr. Marks.” Jonathan got up and walked over to me. He fished out a black key card from his pocket and held it up. “When she’s ready that card will activate, not a moment before. You can follow me personally into the record data banks and watch me scrub your…past from everything we have.” With a knowing smile, he held out the card for me. “Consider it a thank you for your years of fine service.”
I swam like hell.
I left the office with a strict set of instructions, check in times, a film ready date and a key card that held both my past and my future. The receptionist said something to me as I passed in blind haze, but I didn’t hear her. My breathing was fast and shallow at hearing Mitch’s name; my whole body vibrated, building to a fever pitch. I only made it as far as the hallway before the elevator before an old pent up rage got the best of me. It was as brutal, violent anger that I thought was as gone as my old life; turns out both were calmly waiting just beneath my surface—waiting for my inevitable return.
I let out a guttural scream and punched a dozen holes in the gold foil printed wall before my bloody fists gave out. They want some girl film ready? Fine. I’d do that even if it killed her.
I learned a valuable lesson that day. You can’t outrun your nature. A shark is always a shark.
“That’s what I get for doing the right thing.” I said, waiting for the elevator to reach the top floor. Staring at my quivering knuckles I was reminded who I truly was. “Not a mistake I’ll ever make again.”